Disclaimer: Property of Marvel and Fox. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: What a coil! He's only there for a moment, but Colossus has given me such trouble. Peter? Piotr? Dave?! Seriously, Dave is the name they have on IMDB, and I hope that's a fluke, because it couldn't be further from the original. I picked Piotr. Feh. Oh, and I tried to find a happy medium between comics Bobby (funny/clueless) and movie Bobby of the angst. Just read ...
He kept staring at the phone, wanting to pick it up, wanting it to ring. He'd answer, and hear, "Bobby? We're so sorry, honey. We still love you. Don't worry. You're still our boy."
Or he'd dial the familiar numbers and say, "Hey, Mom? Guess what? I met the president! Yeah, I was in the Oval Office and everything! He was shorter than I thought, but pretty nice and everything. No, I didn't get his autograph, Mom..."
But the phone was silent, and he couldn't manage the weight of the receiver.
Prep school.
Right.
Bobby was flipping through comic books when his mom knocked on his door. "Bobby? There's someone here to talk to you." He couldn't read her expression, but she didn't seem upset, exactly. Just confused, and maybe even ... proud?
He followed her down the stairs, slowing as he saw the man in the wheelchair talking to his father in their living room.
"Professor Xavier? Here he is. Bobby, this is Charles Xavier- he's heard a lot about you."
Walking over to shake hands, Bobby was startled by the expression in the man's oddly compelling gaze. He felt himself going cold, but caught himself before it went too far. Probably not a good idea to disgrace himself in front of this complete stranger. As he thought of the potential consequences of such a mess, he could have sworn that their visitor smiled a little wider. "Hello, Robert. I'm delighted to meet you at last."
"Hi. Nice to meet you too, I guess. You are?"
"Bobby!" his mother exclaimed, smacking his shoulder, but Professor Xavier only laughed.
"Mrs. Drake, I appreciate his candor. I would be suspicious in his place as well. And I hope you can extend me the same courtesy when I ask you and Mr. Drake if I might have a moment of conversation alone with Robert?"
She smiled, and Bobby could have sworn she was actually trembling with excitement. "Of course! We'll just be out on the front porch. Bobby," she warned, "Be nice."
Sitting down in an armchair opposite the visitor, Bobby tried to summon some kind of polite conversation. "So, what is this about?"
"Well, Robert, I am here because I run a school. A school for the gifted, in fact, and I think you would be an ideal candidate."
Bobby snorted in disbelief. "A school for the gifted? Me? I think you must have been looking at the wrong transcripts, sir."
Xavier smiled. "Well, in fact, I have been looking at your school records, and whatever your grades might indicate, I believe you do have academic potential. But the gifts my students possess are not necessarily...of that variety."
Oh.
So Bobby started planning his escape, because there was no way he was going to be dragged away by this creepy looking guy and his van of secret government goons to some testing facility where they'd lock him up and cut him open and see just how much the boy of ice liked fire-
"No, Robert, just the opposite."
The opposite? Seeing just how much the boy of ice liked ice? Well, that would hardly help them figure anything out, apart from being silly and redundant, since- hey, wait a minute! "You read my mind!" Bobby hissed.
"No, just your expression," Xavier laughed. "I consider it a violation of my powers to use them outside of certain circumstances."
"Powers?" Bobby felt dizzy. They were sitting in his living room, and discussing the one thing he was never, ever allowed to talk about.
"My school is for young people just like yourself, Robert. It's difficult for most young mutants to handle the regular stress of school and adolescence without the added burden of powers they are still learning to control."
Bobby slumped in his chair. He had said it! The M-word. In his living room! With his parents out on the porch!
"This world is not a friendly place for those who are different, Robert. You know that all too well, I imagine. I want to help those like you- help prepare you for life alongside people who fear you. You'll be surrounded by others who struggle with the same problems as you, others who can understand you for who you really are. Does that sound interesting to you?"
Bobby sat still for a moment, his face creased in thought. Finally, he looked up, his expression a study in indecision. "Do we actually have to take classes?"
The Professor chuckled warmly. "Alas, yes- think of all the parents who might suspect our real curriculum otherwise."
Bobby drew a shallow breath. "You mean- we don't have to tell them? They don't have to know?"
"Not until you're ready to tell them, Robert. And someday, whether out of desire or necessity, you will be."
Bobby winced. "And until then?"
"Until then you will be attending a boarding school for the gifted of all ages, and your parents will be terrifically proud. We're very cautious on move-in day- no powers are to be exhibited at any cost. The parents who are aware of their children's abilities are apprised of the situation, and understand that other parents are not to be told of the school's deeper purpose. Your secret is yours to tell or keep, as per your wishes."
"Wow. I mean, just, wow. Wait- how did you know I was a mutant? How did you know to come here?" The uneasiness returned, and he sat up a little straighter.
"I have ways of discovering mutants, and determining those who are young enough to attend my school is not too difficult. You seemed like an ideal candidate, and so I thought I'd come by. What do you say? Would you like to give my school a try?"
Bobby jumped up from his seat, bouncing over to shake the Professor's hand enthusiastically. "Would I ever!"
After dealing with the ecstasy of his parents and leaving them with the stack of paperwork which had been produced from Professor Xavier's briefcase, Bobby pushed his future headmaster's wheelchair down the driveway, admiring the car which was parked near the road. "Is that a school car? Because it's really nice- not like the big yellow bus at all."
The Professor laughed in response. "Robert, I sincerely look forward to having you among us in Westchester. Ah, here's someone you should meet." The driver of the car stepped out to help Xavier in, but first walked over to shake Bobby's hand. "Scott, allow me to introduce Robert Drake, our newest pupil."
The young man in the visor shook his hand in a firm grip and a faint smile. "Nice to meet you."
Bobby grinned. "Likewise. And it's Bobby. Just so you know. To call me that."
A wider smile for that. "Scott Summers. We look forward to having you on campus, Bobby. Especially when the air conditioning breaks."
The Professor rolled his eyes. "Scott, that happened once, and it was four years ago. I think it's time to move on."
Bobby, meanwhile was still reeling from the fact that his powers could not only be mentioned in casual conversation, but actually joked about! This opened up a whole new realm of possibilities, especially as far as pranks went...
"Robert, we don't have too long before the new semester begins. Shouldn't you start packing?"
Bobby met the Professor's gaze with his best smile, the real one. "I'm on it! Bye, Professor X! Bye, Scott! I'll see you soon!" He watched them wave as the car pulled out of the driveway, and did his best not to explode with excitement, with partial success.
"MOM! Have you seen my blue duffel bag? You know, the one with wheels?" He ran back to the house, wondering how he'd fit all his stuff into the car when they drove to New York.
The phone rang, and he wondered what he might say if they ever did call.
"Hello?"
"Bobby! Babe! It's Jubilee, and we're on our way back from the mall, and we thought we'd call you because we picked up some DVDs and wondered what you'd like to watch when we get home so that you can stop moping in your room and instead get caught up in the fantasy world that Hollywood has so thoughtfully provided for you."
"Jubes-"
"Hush, my child. You must bow before my superior wisdom, it is inevitable. I say we should watch The Fast and the Furious before we go see the sequel, but Piotr wants to watch some weird arty movie instead. What do you say?"
Bobby heard Piotr howl "Zoolander is not an arty movie, you freak!" in the background. Bobby sighed. "Jubilee-"
"Oh, come on, Icebaby, melt a little!"
"Zoolander."
"You suck! You will die, and you suck! Home in five, okay?"
He hung up the phone and ran his hand through his hair. Mom, I saved the world. Mom, I'm-
I'm just me.
He stood up, stretched, and walked downstairs to make popcorn.
The End